


Buried Treasure

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Buried Alive, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Lance (Voltron), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, Protective Keith (Voltron), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22361689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: “Last chancey,” the captain sneered down at them. “Wheree be me treasure?” Lance couldn’t answer and Keith’s swears and denial only made pirate grin. “So be it.” And the first shovelful of dirt to bury them alive fell from above.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 104
Kudos: 446





	Buried Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** season one, shortly after Crystal Venom (s1e9)  
>  **Warning notes:** claustrophobia 
> 
> If you are taking the time to read this fic **please** take the time to leave a comment. It's only a few moments (or a few minutes if you're feeling extremely kind) for you but I can guarantee it took the author far far longer to write the fic and hearing from readers means so much. Thank you.

“I’s only gonna asks one more times. Wheree be me treasure chest?”

“And we told you,” Keith’s voice had lost the hot edge of earlier even though his frustration was still palatable and Lance didn’t think it was fair that he hadn’t been gagged too, “we’re not the people you’re looking for. We didn’t take your treasure.”

The large alien, a legit space pirate complete with a metal peg leg, an eyepatch and some sort of flying lizard like creature, did not look amused at the answer nor did his gang of similarly dressed aliens with swords and knives standing behind him, one of such knives pressed bitingly close on Lance’s neck and another at his back between his bound hands.

It’d be funny if it weren’t so terrifying.

“Two beepedal males,” the pirate captain ticked off on his fingers. His single eye looked between Keith and Lance. “One light skeened,” his gaze flicked to Keith, “one dark,” and back to Lance. “And…” he looked to the large hole just beyond them that was next to the flower-laden trees Lance had seen off the trail and cajoled Keith with promises to do his chores for the week to take a detour because he’d wanted to pick them to make a bouquet for Allura that had apparently been where the pirate’s treasure had been buried. “Seeny at thee sceney of thee crimes.”

Lance had to admit it was a lot of coincidences. But the biggest piece of missing evidence was the fact neither he or Keith had a treasure chest on them: just large shopping bags full of boxed food products and produce Coran had sent them to buy while the rest of the team visited some high-tech warehouse to get replacement parts for the castle.

That hadn’t stopped these pirates from interrogating them now for over an hour, mostly consisting of demands of where they’d hidden their treasure without any real finesse and considering they were the ones without any manners and the pirate-y speech patterns that had gone from amusing to grating they found Lance’s voice and explanations to be the same and had gagged him.

Which left Keith to try and convince them they were innocent.

And, well…

That was going about as well as Lance had expected. 

Lance had planned to protest long enough to make it believable and then cave, leading the pirates on a merry excursion towards the castle and therefore help. But he’d been gagged before he’d gotten to that part of his plan and Keith clearly hadn’t had the same brilliant idea nor been able to translate Lance’s frantic blinking and head jerks in the direction of the castle.

“So be it,” the captain said and Lance almost startled. That was a new response and not one he’d been expecting. Did they finally believe them?

“Throw them in the hole,” the captain sneered, gold tooth glinting, and well that would be a giant nope. 

If Keith protested Lance didn’t hear it over the raucous cheer that went up from the crew as they began to surge towards the less hole more pit and Lance’s attempts to brace his feet were met with a bite of metal on his neck and a prick at his back and he found himself stumbling the few steps forward to avoid having his neck sliced open.

He was paused right on the edge of it, tops of his shoes hanging over and even though he couldn’t really look down at the moment he knew from before it was deep.

And dark.

And not as big as it looked from the top.

And he absolutely did not want to go down there.

The knife removed itself from his throat but it joined the one at his back and gave an encouraging poke.

Lance’s feet sent clumps of dirt and grass falling as he was pushed forward another couple inches. 

The pit loomed large.

Nope.

He’d decided.

He’d rather be stabbed literally in the back than go down there.

“Inne ye go,” rancid breath washed over the back of his ear from one of the pirates.

The knife lifted away from his neck.

“I’s gunna have fun watching ye die.”

Wait.

What?

Lance didn’t have even a moment to figure out what that meant because a hand _shoved_ him over the edge and he tumbled into the pit.

He fell for only a few seconds but that didn’t make them any less terrifying as wind rushed passed his face and he could do nothing to orient himself with his hands still trapped behind him, only able to curl his head in and pray he didn’t snap his neck.

Lance hit the ground with a thud, shoulder taking the brunt of it, and his yell was muffled behind his gag.

Still, all things considered, it hadn’t hurt too much, and given the pirate’s statement he’d have expected there to be hidden spikes beneath the dirt.

So since there weren’t…

He tried not to think on that for the moment and instead got to his feet, just in time to see Keith being pushed over although unlike Lance he appeared to jump on his own and he landed on his feet in a crouch.

Show off.

As one they both looked up to where the top was, probably about fifteen feet.

Lance was also reminded then as to how _small_ the bottom was as the movement had caused Keith’s shoulder to brush his and trying to shift backwards had him running into a wall.

He shuddered out a breath behind the gag, trying to focus on the sunlight above and how nice and wide it was and wow, that was a lot of pirates all clustered around the top.

“Last chancey,” the captain sneered. “Wheree be me treasure?”

“We didn’t fucking take it!” Keith scowled and although his hands were also behind his back Lance could practically see them folded across his chest. 

Lance knocked his shoulder against Keith’s, nodding his head fervently.

Yes. Yes they had. Or so they needed the pirate captain to think.

Keith only looked confused. “What?” he asked, brow furrowing. “We didn't.”

If they got out of this Lance was adding both the ability to act and tell a convincing lie to skills-Keith-needed-to-desperately-learn list.

The pirate captain let out a deep chuckle that brought Lance’s attention back up. 

“So be it.”

All of the pirates disappeared from view.

Keith glanced over to him, still looking confused more than anything, but most importantly not at all worried unlike Lance, who was desperately attempting not to look as scared as he was by the the captain’s parting words mixed with the other alien’s.

_““I’s gunna have fun watching ye die.”_

What were they planning? 

“My knife is hidden inside my jacket,” Keith said quietly but still loud enough to drag him out of his thoughts and Lance’s eyes widened. 

Oh _gracias a Dios._

Keith’s weird obsession with his knife and ignoring Allura’s orders to leave it behind — as this planet was supposed to be peaceful and she didn’t want them coming armed although apparently she hadn’t counted on pirates using it as a treasure location — were actually going to help.

Lance bobbed his head in acknowledgement. He’d get the knife, cut Keith free with hopefully not too many wrong tries, be freed himself and then he could propel Keith up where he’d go to town on the pirates — of whom sheer numbers had prevented them from fighting back to start but that was clearly out the window now — and after Keith finished going samurai ninja on the pirates he’d throw down a rope or vine and even though Lance would be alone in the pit for a little bit it would be okay because the walls weren’t moving and Keith could hear him scream if needed since the gag would be gone and he absolutely wasn’t going to die down he—

Something struck the top of his head.

Dirt, he identified a second later as it rolled down his face and beneath the back of his shirt.

Dirt.

Which meant…

But no.

They couldn’t...

He lifted his gaze upwards.

Pirates with shovels and grins stared down.

They were...

They were going to be buried alive.

Even Keith seemed to understand that based on the widening of his eyes before he ducked his head as another volley rained down and Lance followed suit.

His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out the pirates’ laughter and pattering of dirt as it struck. 

Oh _Dios._

Oh _Dios Dios Dios._

Something smashed into his side and Lance violently flinched away.

It was happening.

The walls were closing in.

He was trapped and it was dark and he was going to die and no one was going to hear him and oh _Dios_ he couldn’t breathe—

“—ance!”

Oh.

Not a moving wall.

Keith.

Who was shouting in his ear. 

“—stop moving! You need to grab the knife!”

Knife.

Right.

Keith’s back was angled to him and he was talking quickly — knife was in an interior sleeve pocket on his back, three inches from the bottom of the jacket — and he was crouching down as Lance couldn’t raise his hands all that much bound as they were and Lance’s hands felt huge and clumsy as he scrabbled to find the pocket.

Dirt kept falling.

Faster.

And faster.

More and more and more and—

Knife!

Lance hooked his fingers around the hilt, tugging at it and knowing if he dropped it then it was over.

The dirt was filling into the hole now, covering their feet and Lance desperately lifted his up even though it was useless to try and tamp that much down.

They were going to be buried.

They were going to die and no one would find them and— 

“Lance!” Keith was shouting again and this time as Lance turned he caught sight of Keith’s face.

Dirt was caught in his mullet and smeared in places on his face but there was none of the fear Lance knew he was showing.

But he saw a flicker of confusion as Keith saw his. 

Keith frowned.

And then his eyes narrowed although the expression wasn’t unkind. “Lance,” his voice was quieter too. “Focus.”

More dirt fell. 

Lance shuddered.

Keith nudged him with his shoulder. “ _Focus.”_

That shouldn’t have been comforting whatsoever, especially coming from the mullet, but Lance found himself giving a jerky nod.

Okay.

Focus.

Cut Keith’s bonds. 

Lance maneuvered the knife, wrapped in some sort of cloth that he shook off, to rest against the back of Keith’s wrists.

He couldn’t seem to stop shaking, it taking every effort to hold onto the knife in clammy hands.

Keith’s fingers bumped against his.

He didn’t say it but Lance heard it anyway.

Focus.

He took as deep a breath as he could around the gag, prayed, and shifted the knife.

He could feel that he’d struck rope, the texture rubbing against his fingers, and Lance went as quickly as he dared.

Shouting sounded from above. 

And if the dirt had been raining down quickly now it was a torrent.

They must have seen the knife.

A large clump smashed against Lance’s shoulder, sending him staggering and he faintly heard Keith shout as the action made the knife skid upwards, no doubt hitting skin, and…

And Lance dropped the knife.

He froze, fingers tingling at the absence.

He’d dropped the knife.

Oh _Dios_ he’d dropped the kni—

Hands descended on his shoulders and he only had a second to realize Keith had been freed and before those hands were shoving him sideways and he crashed face first into a wall. There was a sharp bite of metal on his wrists — Keith had found his knife? _How?_ — and then his hands were free and Keith was shouting at him again.

Jacket?

Remove it?

Lance’s arms felt stiff and clumsy as he did so but he managed even though light was starting to disappear and he was barely catching glimpses of Keith right across from him.

“Sit down and lift it up!”

Realization kicked in a moment later.

They weren’t trying to escape the hole right now. They were…

They were preparing to be buried in it. 

Oh _Dios._

Lance choked down rising panic and followed Keith’s instructions.

He found himself sitting directly across Keith, so close their knees were bumping and Keith was hunching over and Lance did the same, bracing his hands against Keith’s to relieve a little bit of the stress as dirt rained down and hit their makeshift jacket tents.

But it didn’t come inside.

Where there was air.

Lance let out a shaky exhale, realizing only then he hadn’t removed the gag and now it was too late to do so as he couldn’t take his arms down without caving in.

Because they were being buried alive. 

Where they would run out of air.

Where— 

“Hey,” Keith was barely visible in the darkening pit, but somehow Lance still caught his gaze. “We’re going to be okay.”

Lance trembled.

No.

No they weren’t.

“We’re not going to have much air in a moment,” Keith continued in a too gentle voice, something understanding and knowing when even Lance didn’t want to acknowledge it, “so we need to breathe slowly, okay?”

Keith was asking the impossible.

Lance could feel his breath coming in rapid pants behind the gag as light disappeared and walls and dirt closed in and they were going to die and—

“Lance!” Keith’s knee gave the barest bump against his. “ _Breathe.”_

Lance choked on his next one even as he shook his head although what he was trying to say he didn’t quite know.

“We’re going to be okay,” Keith repeated.

Lance couldn’t see him now.

Everything was dark.

The sound was becoming muted.

The jacket brushed against the top of his head.

Oh _Dios._

“I… I know you’re scared,” Keith’s voice was soft but somehow deafening. “I…” the sound of a swallow. “I am too. But we’re going to be okay.”

Keith’s bedside manner was not really all that comforting but…

But just like last time it somehow was. 

“Slow and steady,” Keith said.

It was the last thing he said.

But Lance could hear his breaths, as slow and steady as he’d pretty much ordered, and he did what he could to copy them around the gag. He tried to focus on the sensation of Keith’s knees brushing against his own rather than the dirt at his back and beginning to press more and more against his head as the jacket strained under the weight and his arms were no longer just trembling but violently shaking but he had no choice but to keep them up.

Seconds turned into minutes and the world grew silent outside of their little pocket.

Lance had no idea how much time had passed except that he was starting to feel tired.

Lack of oxygen no doubt over actual exhaustion and no matter how hard he tried he could feel his arms starting to slip down.

He was going to...

“Okay,” Keith’s voice had him jolting upright, flinching as dirt that been piled against his left shifted. “It’s time to go.”

He said it so calmly. As though there wasn’t several feet of dirt between them and the surface and how were they supposed to get up there and then past the pirates?

Lance knew he didn’t say that aloud but Keith answered.

“Our ride is here.”

Even if Lance hadn’t still been gagged he would not have known how to answer that. 

And then he heard it as much as he felt it through the earth.

A roar.

The Red Lion. 

A moment later _something_ crashed through the ground right next to him, sending dirt flying and Lance lost his grip and he choked on his next shallow breath as dirt swam up his nose and oh _Dios_ what was—?

Keith though was grabbing onto his arm and pushing him at the thing that had landed next to them — a pole? No… it was Red’s tail, holy crow — and Lance instinctively wrapped his arms around it and then they were _moving through the ground_.

They popped free a moment later and light so bright it hurt even with his eyes closed assaulted him.

But even moreso…

_Air._

Lance took as heaving a gasp of it as he could. He kept his eyes squeezed closed as they flew, both against the light and he could smell the burning from here — trees and dirt and meat that could only be… and _Dios_ he didn’t want to see — but within a few seconds they were descending and Lance lost his grip on the tail, hitting the ground with a soft _thump._

Birdsong called in the background and a breeze brushed his face and he numbly reached up, pulling down on the gag and let it pool around his neck, sucking in a deep inhale of air and oh _Dios_ he’d almost…

But he was…

They were…

Keith had...

Tears stung his eyes and he cracked them open to see Keith crouching in front of him. Knowing lurked in sharp purple eyes but there was no judgement like Lance had been expecting. Just concern.

For him.

“Hey,” Keith said quietly. “Are you—?”

Lance lunged forward, nearly tackling Keith into a hug and he felt the other boy stiffen before slowly, gingerly, arms came to wrap around Lance’s back.

There were so many things Lance wanted to say right now. He settled on the first one.

 _“Gracias,”_ he whispered.

“Told you we’d be okay,” Keith whispered back. 

Lance let out a choked laugh.

Took a deep breath.

And hugged Keith a little tighter. 

Yes.

Now they were.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt request involving the trope of buried alive with Keith and Lance. Of course I throw in added angst of Lance's claustrophobia from the pods because why not? ♥
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **_Please_ don’t just read and run! Leave a comment! Thank you!**


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